


for whom the bell tolls

by Onyxim



Category: Tiny Meat Gang (Band)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Domestic Violence, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Emotional Manipulation, Eventual Smut, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Heavy Angst, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-24 17:41:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30075909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onyxim/pseuds/Onyxim
Summary: Cody hadn't done cocaine before.
Relationships: Cody Ko/Noel Miller, Cody Ko/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all gon hate me for this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE read the tags. This fic is heavy in areas surrounding drug addiction, domestic violence, and thoughts of suicide. Granted, these events are not explained in explicit detail, but nonetheless! Don't read if you can't handle it! This is your warning! Thanks!

"Wanna try?" 

Cody hadn't done cocaine before. 

He and Jack did pretty much everything else - they smoked, they drank, they even tripped together a few times. It was their thing, exploring new things together. Jack opened Cody's eyes to a world of new things, and he loved him for that. 

This, however, was _new._

Hard drugs weren't exactly something he'd considered. Jack would occasionally bring it up - "You ever tried blow?" - but Cody didn't think he was serious. After all, it was cocaine. _The_ drug, the one that everyone got addicted to, the one he heard the horror stories about. 

But in that moment when he stepped into the living room and saw Jack poised above the coffee table with a pile of coke in front of him and a debit card in his hand, he thought, "Well, it can't be that bad." 

After all, he'd thought the same about weed and shrooms, both of which he'd come to enjoy immensely over the last month or so. And cocaine? Well, he had a few friends who did it. They did it for fun. They still managed to get up and go to class every day. Besides, it wasn't heroin. 

Cody looked into Jack's eyes. They were blue, the kind of ice blue that swallowed you whole. They made Cody lovesick and weak. 

_For fun,_ he thought. _Just for fun._

"Yeah," Cody decided aloud. "I wanna try."

Jack hummed, his mouth curling further. "C'mere, then." 

Cody clambered over to the couch and plopped down next to Jack, the leather creaking beneath him. He was only in his boxers, and the surface was cold against his bare thighs. 

"So how do I. . .?" Cody began.

"I'll show you," Jack murmured, his voice low the way it was only when he was trying to get Cody to do something. It was tempting, Cody thought, like a siren. Pulling him in. Combined with those ridiculous baby blues, he was a goner. 

"Should I be scared?" Cody asked jokingly. 

"No," Jack said simply. Cody watched his fingers work deftly on the coffee table. He gave Cody another tilted smile. "I've done it a few times. It'll be fun. I promise." 

Just for fun.

Cody leaned on his shoulder, awed. His hands were precise and delicate. The surety of his movements gave Cody the assurance he needed. Jack knew what he was doing. He would take care of him, like he always did.

Jack finished and turned himself bodily towards Cody. "Lift your head up a little," he said. His voice curled into a tight coil in Cody's stomach. 

Licking his lips, Cody obliged, and Jack held his chin with one hand. "Attaboy," he cooed. He held up a debit card to Cody's right nostril and pressed the other one down with his finger. 

"Just inhale," Jack said, his breath gusting against Cody's cheek, "and don't sneeze." 

* * *

The days blended together after that. It made Cody dizzy. The times he did remember to check the clock on his phone, the date was always different. He didn't remember the last time he'd gotten up to go to class. Most of the time he didn't remember waking up. He didn't remember passing out. He only remembered cocaine, liquor, some other stuff he had a vague memory of, and Jack. Always Jack. 

It was Jack who murmured words of encouragement in his ear, coaxed him to eat, made him drink water. In his haze, Cody remembered to smile and say, "Thank you," and Jack would smile back, those pretty blue eyes crinkling at the edges, and he'd say, "Always." 

The cocaine became an easy endeavor. Jack showed him how to cut himself a line, and Cody always thought about how stark the white powder looked against the dark brown maple of the coffee table. Always so bright, almost glowing. It both scared and intrigued him. Of course, he didn't give much thought to it after he snorted it. He preferred using the dollar bill, rolling it into a tight cylinder and bending down at the waist. Jack's hand was always there, resting on his lower back. 

"You're a natural, babe," he'd say. 

Cody would remark, "You're just saying that 'cause you think I look hot doing it." 

Jack would say, "Yeah." And then, sultrier, "Come here." 

Soon after that, Cody would find himself staring up into the striking blue vortexes of Jack's eyes as Jack fucked him against whatever surface - the couch, the bed, the kitchen island. It didn't matter. All Cody would feel was the way Jack's hips pistoned into him, his groans puffing against his cheek, the way his body felt warm and his eyes felt cold. Staring into him, boring into his head, pinning him down.

* * *

Cody noticed after some time that the month was different now, too.

* * *

In between blackouts, he and Jack would talk. The fogginess of his brain kept him from keeping track of most conversations, and sometimes he lost the thread of the conversation completely. 

"I wanted to be a diver," Cody said one day. He was splayed on his back on Jack's bed, staring up at the ceiling. 

"Yeah?" The bed moved as Jack rolled onto his side. Cody felt his fingers tracing patterns on his bare stomach. "Is that what you were studying when we met?" 

"No," Cody said. He closed his eyes, melting into the sensations. Alcohol had made him pliant and sleepy. "I was studying computer science. But I think I was a good enough diver to, like, go pro if I wanted to." 

Jack hummed. He was drunk, too. "Would you ever?" 

"Huh?" 

"Go pro." 

Cody paused. "No," he decided. "No, I wouldn't." 

"What would you do?" 

Cody lolled his head toward him. In the meager light of the bedroom, Jack's eyes still had that glow to them, and despite their drunkenness they still looked sharp and inquisitive. Challenging in a way that confused Cody, like whatever answer came out of his mouth could be right or wrong. 

"I don't know," he said finally.

* * *

It had been Jack's idea to move Cody into his apartment, so many months ago. Cody had been living on campus at the time.

"Really?" Cody had asked, dumbfounded. They'd only been dating for three months. 

"Sure," Jack had said, shrugging. "Why not? I'm tired of sneaking into your dorm all the time, and my dad pays for the apartment." 

"How many bedrooms are there?" 

"Just one, but you can sleep with me. It'll be nice." 

Cody hoped his hesitance wasn't audible. "Okay. . .I'll think about it."

It didn't take Cody long to think about it. He explained to his parents that it would save them some money because dorm costs were sky high anyway. He tried not to give to much thought to the fact that his parents kept asking about Jack - how long he'd known him, when did they start dating, were they serious, did he even go to the same college? He'd told them that they shouldn't worry, and that everything would be fine.

His roommates, who had seen Jack around but didn't know much about him, were similarly skeptical. Cody didn't blame them. They didn't know him like he did. He told them the same thing he told his parents, "I know it's late notice, it was kind of an in-the-moment thing, we're both ready." 

A week or so later he was settling into Jack's apartment, which was huge. No wonder his dad was paying for it, the rent had to be insane. Sleek wooden floors, modern furniture, a fancy kitchen, a large living room. 

Something warm tugged at his heart, knowing that this was all theirs, that they were living together. Sure, it was a tad bit fast, and most people didn't move in together quite as early in their relationship, but they weren't most people. 

Far from it.

* * *

In the two months that followed, Jack introduced Cody to a variety of things. Alcohol (which, believe it or not, he'd avoided for most of his college career), weed, shrooms, and one time, LSD, but Cody didn't like how it made him feel. 

Jack was always there, consoling him when a trip took a bad turn, helping him to the bed when he was too drunk to see straight. At that time, he still made it to class (for the most part) but sometimes hangovers and general exhaustion kept him in bed. They'd go out partying with Jack's friends on Fridays and Saturdays. Cody never knew anyone there, but they always knew who he was. 

Spring Break hit, and he and Jack and a couple of other people went camping. The only thing Cody remembers is the earthy taste of shrooms and the trees looking a million miles high. It was nice. 

It was when they returned back to the apartment that Cody's parents began calling him. 

At first, Jack told him to ignore them. "They know that you're an adult, right?" he would say, his face screwed up. "Why are they always checking in on you?" 

"They're probably worried," Cody said. "I mean, I haven't gone to class in a while. . .the school probably called them." 

Jack rolled his eyes. "They're _babying_ you. What, they checking your grades too?" 

Cody picked up the first few times. His mom's voice was often tinged with worry, wondering if he was okay, if Jack was treating him well. 

"We're fine," Cody would say. "We're really happy. The apartment is great, too, you should see it sometime." 

Then the inevitable question about his grades. 

"It's college, Mom, I can catch up anytime. I'm just a little tired. I needed a break." 

It went like that for a while, until Jack got upset that he kept indulging them. 

"Cody, you've gotta tell them to back off." 

Cody looked up from his phone in surprise. "What? Why?" 

"They obviously don't trust you. You're not a kid anymore. You can handle yourself, you live on your _own_ , for fuck's sake." 

Cody flinched. "They're just worried, Jack, they're all the way in Calgary and I'm down here." 

"Obviously telling them they 'don't need to worry' hasn't been working. I mean, you moved down here because you wanted to. They've gotta stop treating you like a kid at some point." 

Cody's parents called one more time, a week later. 

"Look, I'm _fine_ , okay?" he snapped. "Stop calling and asking me if how I'm doing. I can take care of myself. Do you not trust me?" 

"Of course we trust you, Cody," his mom said on the other line, "But it's your last semester and we're getting worried. It's just that - "

"Just what? That because I'm tired of college that I'm a failure or something? I don't need college to live my life. I'm - " he paused, breathless. His hands were shaking. "I'm fucking tired, Mom." 

He hung up and cried. Jack held him close as he sobbed, murmured words of comfort into his hair. He smelled like pine and aftershave. It calmed him some. 

After he stopped sniffling, he muttered, "Fuck, I'm sorry." 

"For what?" Jack said.

"For making you deal with this. You were right. My parents think I'm a teenager or something. Why else would they call like once a week to ask me if I'm going to class? What the fuck does it matter?" 

Jack was silent for a moment. Then, "Are you gonna be okay?" 

He sniffed one last time. He'd stopped crying, but his hands were still shaking for reasons other than his emotions. His brain felt lead-laden and heavy. 

"I could really use a bump," he said.


	2. Chapter 2

Graduation was fast approaching. If Cody were still in school, he'd be ordering his cap and gown, he'd be getting gifts from his relatives. The word must have spread that he wasn't planning on graduating. This semester, at least. He would go back eventually.

He scrolled through his Instagram feed. Many of his friends were having graduation parties. Their smiling, bright faces beamed at him from his phone screen. It dug a hole in his gut. He took a sip of his drink to fill the hollow feeling in his stomach. 

He didn't think he'd ever rely on alcohol so much. These days it was getting hard to ignore the deepening pit inside of him. The disappointment from his parents. His friends no longer talking to him. His dependence on coke. It all rolled and compressed into a tight ball in his stomach, simmering at his core. 

The withdrawals from the coke exhausted him mentally and physically. They didn't get it all the time, and for the most part it was only him that did it; Jack watched him quietly from his place on the couch. 

After he came down, Jack held him while he shook and cried. It was Jack's idea to use alcohol to make the aftereffects less brutal. It did help, the depression that settled over him after a binge softened around the edges after he took a few hearty swigs of whatever Jack happened to have in the kitchen. 

Soon, that stopped working. It became a continuous, vicious cycle. Jack began to get irritated with him and his lack of enthusiasm. 

"Why are you always so damn sad all the time?" Jack asked him one day. 

Cody shrugged. He was sitting on the couch, nursing a bottle of Svedka. It made his throat burn pleasantly. "I dunno. Everyone's graduating without me. M' friends won't talk to me. I'll have to retake all my classes this semester." 

"So you're not happy here, is what you're saying." Jack's eyes, those beautiful blue eyes, were steely. "You regret moving in with me."

Cody felt immediately guilty. "No! No, I'm just not used to this, I guess. Not being in school. Not. . .doing anything. Y'know?" 

Jack considered him for a few seconds and then relaxed, smiling. "Yeah, I used to reminisce like that too. But this is better, right? Just doing what we want, when we want." 

Cody didn't say anything. He offered a tight smile. 

"Attaboy," Jack murmured, though Cody wasn't sure why. He gave him a peck on the lips before standing and walking behind the couch, heading to the door. "I know what'll make you feel better. I'll be right back. Want anything while I'm out?" 

"No. I'm fine." 

"Okay. Be right back." He heard keys jingling. "And Cody?" 

"Yeah?" 

"I love you." 

Cody gripped the neck of the bottle so hard it threatened to crack. His eyes watered. "I love you too." 

He waited for the soft click of the door closing. Then he stood, walked to their bathroom, and threw up.

* * *

Jack returned later that night. "Cody," he called, "I'm home. I got something." 

Cody sat up and rubbed his eyes. He'd gone to bed and cried until he fell asleep. His head was throbbing. Taking a deep breath, he threw the covers off of himself and shuffled to the kitchen. 

He paused when his eyes landed on the kitchen table.

"We haven't tried this yet," Jack announced proudly. 

Cody's eyes were wide, his mouth agape. _Is that. . .? No, it can't be. It fucking can't._

"Cody?" Jack frowned. "Babe?" 

"No," Cody said. 

"'No'?" Jack's tone went flat.

"No." 

He turned and went back into the bedroom. 

* * *

Jack didn't talk to him for the rest of the night.

* * *

They found out about a week later that Jack's dad no longer planned on paying for the apartment. 

Cody laid under the covers and listened numbly as Jack and his father argued loudly over the phone in the living room. 

"I'm not paying rent for you to sit around and do fucking nothing," Jack's dad yelled on speakerphone. "Get a fucking job." 

Jack's voice as he spat something insulting made Cody's skin go cold. His heart thudded in his ears. He'd never heard him yell like that before. 

"We don't need your fuckin' fancy apartment," he heard Jack say, "we'll find somewhere else to fuckin' go." 

Cody shut his eyes. Where would they go? He didn't live here. His family is in Canada. Jack didn't have much money. Cody didn't have _any_ money.

"I'll figure it out," Jack told his father. "Thanks for fucking nothing." He hung up. Cody heard his footsteps stomping toward the bedroom. He burrowed himself further into the bed, hoping maybe that he'd become smaller and Jack wouldn't see him.

The light flickered on. "Come on, Cody, get up." 

Cody thought about maybe not listening to him, but decided against it. He sat up, blinking his eyes against the light. "What's going on?" 

"We're leaving. Pack your stuff." 

He frowned. "Wait, we're leaving now? Can't we stay a little longer?" 

"No, the bastard wants to stop paying rent? Fine. Fuck him. We'll just go now. Don't need his fucking _charity."_

Cody slid out of bed hesitantly. Jack's eyes were wild, his face red. His stance was defensive and coiled tight, like a snake. Cody spoke softly. "Do you know where we're gonna go?" 

"I've got a little money. We'll find a motel somewhere for the time being." 

_A motel?_ Cody's stomach dropped. It was all becoming too real. They really _didn't_ have anywhere to go. "For how long?" 

That did it. "For _fuck's sake_ , Cody, stop with the _questions!_ Alright? We'll figure it out! Just pack your shit so we can go." 

"But I don't want to go." Cody stood, shaking. His voice was wavery. "Why can't we just get jobs? I'll work if I have to. Jack, we don't have to leave. We can - " 

And then Jack was in front of him, his hand gripping Cody's biceps. "You want to give in to that fucker, don't you?" he hissed. "Give him what he wants. He wants us to come crawling back to him for his stupid goddamn money, his fucking charity. We don't need this place, and we don't need him." 

"You're hurting me," Cody mumbled. Blood pulsed in his ears.

Jack barreled on. "If you think I'm going to beg that asshole to pay for my rent like some kind of - " 

"You're _hurting me,"_ Cody said, louder. His throat constricted and, out of his control, he started crying. 

Jack looked stunned for a moment. He let go of Cody's arms. His hands left bright red prints. 

Cody sat down on the bed and covered his face with his hands. He couldn't stop. They had no one. He had no one. _Everything was falling apart._

He felt Jack sit down gingerly next to him, the mattress dipping under his weight. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, baby." He gathered Cody in his arms and kissed his forehead. "Here, lay with me. Lay back." 

They curled up together in the middle of the bed. Cody buried his nose into Jack's shirt. Smelled pine and aftershave. 

"Don't cry," Jack murmured. His hands rubbed up and down Cody's back. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I promise we'll figure things out, yeah? Get our lives together. Move somewhere nice. Would you like that?" 

Cody sniffed. 

"Cody?" 

He almost didn't answer. "Yeah?" he croaked. 

"I love you. I love you so much." 

Pine and aftershave.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw// suicide attempt (not graphic)

The motel room was a small cardboard box of a place with outdated, faded wallpaper and a stale smell in the air. The bed had starchy sheets. The bathroom smelled like mildew and cigarettes. The TV only got two channels. 

Cody was sure that there were nicer motels out there, but he was sure Jack wasn't in the mood to be questioned, and his arms still hurt. 

* * *

They stayed in that motel room for two weeks. Jack explained that he was using a stash of cash that he normally used to get their drugs, so they were going to have to cut down on stuff. Most of that stuff being cocaine. 

Cody tried not to outwardly display his withdrawal symptoms, as to not upset Jack. He spent most days sleeping just to avoid dealing with the depression, which draped over him and bore on his body like a weighted blanket. Being awake meant that he floated aimlessly through the day, not really aware of what was happening around him, but awake nonetheless. Jack still bought him alcohol. It helped. Numbed him to Jack's anger, which came and went at odd intervals. 

Sometimes he was sweet, promising Cody that they'd be moving out soon, that he was working hard to get their lives back to normal again. Then he would leave for the majority of the day and come back in one of two moods. 

If whatever he was doing went right, he would bring back Cody's favorite snacks, maybe a full meal if he was feeling up to it. If whatever he was doing went badly, then he was be angry, pacing around the small room, muttering. Cody attempted to offer advice from his place on the bed.

"Of course you would say that," Jack would say. "Everything's gotta have a fuckin' happy ending for you, Cody. Not everything's all sunshine and rainbows. Do me a favor? Just sit there and shut the hell up." 

Eventually they moved into a slightly better motel. This one had a pool. One day, when Jack was gone, Cody dug out an old pair of swim trunks. He left their room and walked barefoot behind the building to the in-ground pool. 

It was breathtaking. The afternoon sun bore down on the rippling waves created by the wind, making it glimmer and wink. The hum of the pool filter was overlayed by the chirping of birds. Best of all, it was completely empty. He had the whole pool to himself. 

Cody dropped his towel on a nearby chair and lowered himself into the water. The surface was warm. He waded out to the middle and went lax so that his body floated at the top. The sun was relentless on his bare skin. He shut his eyes, let his ears submerge beneath the surface, listened to the _glug-glug-glug_ of the water.

He didn't know how long he was out there. He just knew that it was long enough for the water to feel like part of him. Sound became an afterthought, and the sun's heat became his only reminder that he was still alive and not floating in oblivion. 

_This is nice_ , he surmised. _I want this forever_. 

He wanted to get away from his life. The drugs, the disappointment, his failures. Jack. He had nothing left, nothing to lose. He'd shunned his parents. No one knew where he was. 

_Fuck it_ , he thought. 

His body dipped underwater. It was gentle, becoming completely submerged, like something was pulling him down with a thread. The water hugged him tightly from all sides. A welcoming embrace. 

_Yeah_ , he thought to himself. _This is what I want._

There Cody floated, suspended in mid-air, arms outstretched towards the walls of the pool in complete surrender. He wondered if this was what limbo felt like. 

He opened his eyes. Watched the sun wobble and waver, bidding him goodbye.

He smiled. And then he stopped holding his breath. 

* * *

"Cody!" 

Waking up was painful. 

"Cody! Cody, no, come on, please!" 

It hurt. It _hurt_. 

His eyes flew open. He was looking up at something - someone. Bright blue eyes. 

He opened his mouth to say something but water came out instead. He coughed and sputtered, turned over so he wouldn't hurl on the person who'd saved him. His body ached. His lungs were on fire. His ears still had water in them. He felt like _shit_.

"Oh, thank God. I was so fucking scared." A hand rubbed his back soothingly. "Don't do that again, Cody. _Please."_ The voice was thready and broken, holding back a sob. "God." 

Cody gasped for sweet air as the person cradled him to their shirt. The chest beneath his ear heaved and shuddered, those hands clinging to his wet body like he'd disappear if they let go. 

Cody realized then that it was the first time he'd ever heard Jack cry.


	4. Chapter 4

The next few days crawled by in slow motion. 

Cody found himself paying acute attention to the time. He didn't understand why. Maybe his near-death gave him a newfound appreciation for something as trivial and real as time. It was the only thing he had no control over that he was okay with. It was reassuring, somehow. 

A week or so afterwards they moved on to another motel. This one was about the same as the last, except it didn't have a pool. This one was closer to civilization, whereas their past two motels were on the outskirts of the city. Here, they were closer to restaurants and gas stations and stores alike. Cody started going on walks just to get out of the room. 

He thought about water as he walked amongst other people for the first time in what seemed like a while. How it felt like he was wading through an aquarium. His body was cold and numb. He still heard the water in his ears. People floated by nonchalantly, uncaring, like fish.

A few people turned their heads non-too-subtly to look at him. Cody wasn't surprised. He probably looked a little worse for wear - his hair was getting too long, permanent bags had formed under his eyes. He knew he was skinnier. He looked disheveled. Maybe homeless. Maybe that's why people were staring at him. Maybe it was because he shuffled more than walked, dragging his sneakers on the sidewalk. He kept his gaze mostly pointed at the ground. Couldn't bear to see the judgment in their eyes. 

He imagined each and every one of them as his parents. They'd look at him in complete and utter disappointment now. Probably be a little put off on how gaunt and hollow he looked. 

_"What happened to you?"_ they'd ask. 

He wouldn't know how to answer them. 

Cody stopped walking and found himself standing in front of a small restaurant. His stomach turned at the thought of eating, but something beckoned him inside anyway. 

Opening the doors buffeted him with the scent of baking pastries and sizzling meat. A sudden, distant memory surfaced to the forefront of his mind: Mom making dinner for he and his sister, coming home after diving practice to the smells of something cooking in the oven. 

He found himself sitting at a booth. A pretty woman came over and placed a menu down delicately in front of him. 

"Hi! I'm Elizabeth, I'll be your waitress for today." She smiled brightly at him and clicked her pen, poising it over her server book. "What can I get you?" 

Cody realized belatedly that he hadn't brought his wallet with him. He blushed. "Uh, just a water," he said sheepishly, feeling foolish. 

He waited for Elizabeth to realize how haggard he looked and recoil in disgust, but she just nodded. "Okay! I'll bring that right out for you." 

She scampered away. Cody looked around the restaurant. It was cozy. It had a few booths and a handful of small tables. Mostly older couples occupied these spaces, talking quietly amongst themselves. There was also a bar, where a couple of people took up residence on the outdated barstools. They looked like regulars, he thought, as they bantered with the staff.

Cody jumped when Elizabeth set the water down in front of him. "Thanks," he murmured. 

"Anything else today, sir?" she asked politely. 

Cody shook his head and returned the smile. He hoped it looked genuine - he'd gotten used to fake smiling. "No thanks, this is fine." 

"Okay. Just let me know if you need anything." Then she was off to tend to the next table. 

Cody looked down at his water. He wrapped his hand around the glass just to feel the chill of the ice cubes floating inside and the condensation that had gathered on the surface. 

He sipped his drink and observed everyone from inside his aquarium.

* * *

Two days later, he found himself back at the restaurant, in the same booth. He didn't have his wallet, Jack had to borrow his card for something he was "working on." Cody had a little less than thirty dollars on that card. He hoped there would be a little bit left on it after Jack returned it to him. 

"Hello again!" Elizabeth's grinning face said. "What would you like today?" The pen clicked. 

"Just a water, please." As much as he lamented not having his wallet, he truly didn't think he could eat anything. He hadn't had a drink in a few days (he was trying to quit) and the withdrawal from alcohol was even worse than the cocaine. Persistent nausea kept him from eating. 

Elizabeth nodded. Her ponytail bounced up and down. "I'll bring that right out." 

Cody looked around the restaurant again. For the most part, the same people were at the bar, and one of the elderly couples from the other day were seated at the same table. Cody concluded that they were indeed regulars. He studied them intently, something like jealousy weighing heavy in his gut. 

The couple sitting at the table was a bronze-skinned man and woman. The woman was staring down at a book on the table. She took her pen and circled something before smirking at the man and passing it to him. The man gave a short laugh and said something witty in another language. He too circled something on the book, and passed it back to the woman. Cody realized they were doing a crossword puzzle. 

He turned his attention to the bar, where most of the activity was happening. A woman with long brown hair was filling the display case with trays of pastries and going back and forth with a man sitting on one of the barstools. Cody couldn't see his face, but from the way the woman rolled her eyes and smiled at him, he was sure they were sharing some kind of worker-customer banter. Another woman sitting at the bar was nursing a coffee and reading a book. 

Elizabeth returned with the water. She smiled. "Anything else for today?" 

"Nope, just this. Thank you." 

Cody put his hand around the glass again. Felt the cold. Then he took a sip. 

* * *

Jack returned his card later that night. He'd used all of the money. They fought a little. Jack pushed him so hard he fell backwards. Then he told Cody he was sorry, that he loved him, he didn't mean to hurt him. 

They laid on the bed together. Cody waited until Jack had fallen asleep before he got up and decided that he needed a drink. 

* * *

Finally, he asked Jack where he was going every day. 

"Finding us a place to live," Jack said shortly. He was in a mood. Cody didn't question him further. He was too tired.

As per usual, Cody waited until Jack left and made sure the car was gone from the parking lot before he left the motel to go on his walk. Walking had become his only means of avoiding everything - the motel room only made him antsy. 

He visited the restaurant several more times. It was a place of comfort for him now, he knew these people, greeted them when he came in, waved to the familiar people behind the counter. He kept to himself in his booth. Elizabeth brought him a water on principle and let him be. He was grateful for that. 

One day, however, Cody walked up to the restaurant and sat in his usual booth. Elizabeth brought him his water. He'd just gone through his ritual of feeling the glass before drinking it when Elizabeth brought him a plate. 

This alarmed Cody in a way he didn't expect it to. It wasn't part of the ritual. He looked up at Elizabeth in confusion. 

Elizabeth smiled warmly. "It's from that gentleman over there." She pointed at the bar. 

Cody followed her finger and met eyes with the man that had been sitting at the bar every time Cody had come in. He was always talking to the woman with the long brown hair. This was the first time Cody had ever seen his face. 

He had light, honey-brown eyes that looked gold in the warm yellow light of the restaurant. A beard of stubble framed his face. He shot Cody a small smile and waved his hand once before turning back towards the brown-haired girl. If Cody hadn't known any better, he wouldn't have thought that this man had just bought lunch for him. 

He looked down at his plate. It was a croissant sandwich with sausage, egg, and cheese. The smell wafted up to his nose. His stomach growled.

His eyes watered. "Can you tell him that I said thank you?" he asked softly, willing his voice not to crack. 

Elizabeth looked taken aback but schooled her expression quickly into one of practiced professionalism. "Of course. Enjoy your meal." And the words were so soft that he had to look away so she didn't see the lone tear that escaped his eye of its own volition. 

Elizabeth left to tend to other tables. Cody gripped the glass of water with his left hand, picked up the sandwich with his right. It was warm and crisp. The glass was cold and hard.

He took his left hand off of the water, wiped his palm on his jeans, and took a bite of the sandwich, thinking of honey-gold eyes.


End file.
